Tainted
by Extrapolation
Summary: In this world of fragments, a memory - or spirit - unbroken is the most dangerous weapon of all. One can only hope it does not destroy its wielder. Kain-centric. Gen.


There are some days when I look into the shadows, into the bloody sunset and I wonder if I don't belong there.

I knew I wasn't like the others when my memories returned after my first battle. When I recognized Cecil and he merely said, quizzically, "Have we met before?"

I nearly replied, _Yes, yes we have. Cecil Harvey, we come from the same world… do you remember? You stole my love from me._ I hadn't the courage, however, and let a lie drip off my tongue, oily thick darkness.

"Ah… I apologize. I mistook you for another."

Even then, as he walked away bemused, I had wondered why I was different. Every memory of my past is whole and intact, without even the strange gaping holes as in the Warrior of Light's. I know my name – Kain Highwind – and he hasn't the slightest clue as to his. Yet, he recalls his nemesis, Garland… Truly, an anomaly.

I questioned Cosmos after I returned. She couldn't answer, or wouldn't, but instead said, "Look at me, my warrior."

And I couldn't. Her light was unbearably bright.

I left feeling as if I had received an answer, but it was in a language I did not understand.

That only made me even more eager to receive Golbez's explanation.

~*._

I kneel in the soft dust covering the surface of the Lunar Subterrane, tracing idle patterns in the gray substance. Of all places, this has survived from our world and made it into the amalgam of worlds that is Pandaemonium. I cannot help but wonder if there is some significance.

Memories. The memories I have of this place are not fond ones, and yet I obsess over them, pick through them endlessly. I feel as if I am missing something from my memory, something terribly important. Idly, I wonder if the crystal castle of the Lunarians or the trial within the Lunar Ruins lay in this world as well.

There is a sound, and I abruptly straighten, my lance manifesting in my hands, courtesy of Cosmos' powers. It is Golbez. How he managed to come so near with his cumbersome and noisy armor, I do not know.

"Fear not," he tells me, as if I trust him. "I have not come to fight you. My purpose this day is merely one of observation. …To see how you fare, against the endless horde you face."

I can almost laugh at that. "I trust you have seen."

Golbez is not amused. Neither am I, after I hear what he has to say.

His words paint a picture of an endless cycle, a never-ending war between order and chaos. Cosmos, gathering her warriors to send against the dark forces of Chaos. Chaos, opposing her with his own warriors. A victory – it does not matter whose it is – and once again, war.

"You do not believe me, do you?" he says, as if it is the most unnatural thing in the world.

"Had you expected otherwise?" I scoff, but the beginnings of doubt take root in the dark parts of my heart. _If it is… what do we fight for?_

"I suppose it would seem absurd, without memories," he is musing, and that one word – _memories_ – seizes my attention. He knows something. Something that Cosmos also knows, something she refuses to tell me.

"Explain," I demand tersely. So he does.

The war rages. The warriors of order and chaos are felled and revived anew, to be felled again and once more revived. Each time, these fallen warriors' memories are purged to facilitate their rebirth. I am one of those warriors, he informs me. I am once more caught in the iron webs of fate.

The cycle is not in my recovered memories. Yet Golbez has an explanation for everything, it seems. It is within my deeper memories, ones buried deep within my mind. _The more you fight, the more you remember._

"See for yourself. The truth is there if you seek it."

~*._

I sought it.

I found it.

It has been hard to look my comrades in the eye ever since.

~*._

"But _if._ If there were a way to make winning possible, by accepting that loss as inevitable… Would you be able to commit yourself to such a purpose?"

The moment of truth. I can only hold my breath as I await the Warrior of Light's response.

For a second I half-hope he rejects my words, calls me insane, or a traitor, or what have you, so I may cast away this idea as another plot of my enemies to lead me astray. I know that to choose this route is likely to doom myself, and thus wish it to be untrue, so I may live… But what is living in this harsh, foreign world? I would rather save my comrades so they may win in another battle than eke out an existence knowing the war has no end. –Or, part of me does. The other part wishes for… life, at any cost. The part of me that speaks these words so passionately, the part of me that is willing to sacrifice itself to save the others is disgusted.

The Warrior of Light accepts my words as true. There is no backing out now. I am relieved, and hate myself for it.

We plan out our movements carefully – none may be allowed to suspect our motives. The Warrior of Light shall stand in the center of the delicate web of order created by our allies, fulfilling his duty as Cosmos' guardian as well as keeping him up to date on our comrades' movements. This information he shall relay to me, and I will carry out the task of felling our friends.

What a mission. The burden I must now bear… I only can hope it does not crush me.

* * *

><p>What happened? This was supposed to be a short one-shot… it's like this story is writing itself. Oh well, I need practice writing longer stuff anyway.<p> 


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